


of eons and instants

by magumarashi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Forehead Touching, Gentle Kissing, Polyamorous Character, Romantic Fluff, Unsubtle Flirting, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), tiny catboy is totally obsessed with giant girlfriend 4 times his size, what else can i put theres some good shit in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: "Sorry to interrupt, but I've a missive for you, milord. It seems the Warrior of Darkness requests your presence in her quarters in the Pendants this evening, if you've no other engagements to attend to.""I see. Did she mention why?""... oddly enough, no."
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	of eons and instants

**Author's Note:**

> My WoL is a Viera named Aoife Asturmaux. (Her first name is pronounced "Eefa".) I put her backstory on [the Lodestone](https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/27819823/) so I won't repeat it here; the only detail I feel is relevant is that she grew up in Coerthas (and thus isn't used to being around other Viera/didn't have her own traditional clothes). 
> 
> For context, this takes place sometime between 5.0 and 5.2, and Aoife and G'raha have already made their feelings/intent to be in a relationship together clear by now. Also for context(?), Aoife is *very* poly, and currently she is also involved with both Estinien and Aymeric. By the time this fic starts she has already made her elf boyfriends aware of her intent to add the catboy to the pile, and they're both ok with it; G'raha has also ok'd her relationship with the elves, so we're all cool here. If I hadn't been lazy I would have written a fic about working all of that out (like, I even have the notes for how it all goes down), but since i am lazy, I decided to write this first instead lmao. Aoife's polyness doesn't come up that much in this but since i did include a line mentioning it i figured i'd just put the context on the table upfront

The Crystal Exarch was not entirely certain where to put his eyes.

When the Warrior of Light sent a missive inviting him to her quarters in the Pendants that evening, he wasn’t full sure what to expect. Was she looking for a chance to chat in private, where they could discuss the Source away from prying ears? If that was the case, he wondered why she wouldn’t just come to the Ocular to find him. With the Scions dispersed and Norvrandt enjoying a much-needed peace, there was little chance of them being disturbed. Why the summons, then?

For a selfish moment he considered the chances of her summoning him for an evening tryst—with few secrets between them now, such a meeting would not be entirely beyond the scope of… no, no, he waved those thoughts away. Even now that they'd made their feelings plain and secured the blessings of Aoife's other partners, he was hesitant to get his hopes up too high. The Aoife he remembered had seemed the kind of woman to take intimacy slowly, and for his part he was more than willing to pursue their relationship at whatever pace she wished. 

Once he reached her room, however, and she opened the door to admit him—all pretense of a laid-back evening left his mind. 

As the door swung open, the Exarch was immediately met with a view of his hero in an elegant wine-red gown, perfectly tailored, with a generous cut exposing her legs. Which would have been well and good, save that beneath the dress she wore naught but the Viis’ traditional pantalettes and thigh-high sandals. The overall effect suggested a myriad of ways she was expecting to spend their evening, none of which were, strictly speaking, platonic.

The hapless Exarch tried three times to look away before finally turning his head to provide a much less scintillating view of the doorframe.

“I…” he croaked, “Twelve take me, Aoife—what is the occasion?” 

“Surprised?” said Aoife, a smile on her lips. “I wanted to try wearing the shoes that the Viis in Fanow gifted me, and ended up putting an outfit together… How do I look?”

“I… I know not what to say,” the Exarch responded truthfully. He glanced over at her. “You look… Breathtaking. Decadent, even—ah, that's not the right word…” 

Aoife couldn't help giggling a little. 

“Decadent, hm?” she stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. “Why don't you step inside, G'raha?”

His heart pinched a little, hearing that name in her voice…. She must have known she could get him to do whatever she wanted, calling him by name. He stepped cautiously into the room, and she slowly shut the door behind him.

_Alone with her._

He had, of course, been alone with her before—they’d had several private conversations in the Ocular, and their chat out in the Kholusian countryside had been far from prying ears. Yet something felt different about this time. Not only were they alone, they were alone with little chance of being interrupted. They were alone in the way he’d always dreamed of, when he envisioned spending time with her… 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Aoife offered. “I don’t have many options, but there’s some cider if you’d like…”

“Thank you,” said the Exarch, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his nerves. “W-water is fine.”

And with the sudden dryness in his throat, he certainly needed some.

Aoife smiled and went to fetch him a glass. He tried not to stare while she bent to pour some water from a pitcher, but in truth it was hard to take his eyes off her. The dress emphasized her figure at the waist, to say nothing of the cut exposing her back… It was stirring the kinds of things in him he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years: a distinct longing in his breast, and a needy ache somewhere else entirely.

 _She must be doing this on purpose_ , he thought to himself. _And I daresay it’s working…_

The sound of her heels on the tile floor snapped him out of his trance, and he gratefully accepted the cup she offered him. 

“So, er,” he said, trying to break the weighty silence. “The shoes were a gift, you said…?”

“Mm,” Aoife nodded. She leaned against the table, with one leg out to demonstrate. “They saw me running around in my Eorzean shoes and thought my feet must be killing me. They weren’t wrong, to be fair—with my feet the way they are, heels are much more comfortable for me than flats.”

“I see…” the Exarch responded. He tried to recall what shoes she was wearing when they met, all those years ago—some kind of greaves, likely Ishgardian make, with bladed accents for fending off draconic foes. It hadn’t occurred to him that her feet might look different from anyone else’s. He glanced down in spite of himself, and noticed for the first time how much larger and longer her feet were than his. He couldn’t imagine such outlandish shoes as Viis sandals could be comfortable for anyone, but they did look as though they had been made to fit her feet… 

Aoife caught him staring and lifted her leg evocatively, shooting a playful grin in his direction.

“Like what you see?”

Had he been a younger man, the Exarch might have simply spluttered something unintelligible in response to her obvious flirting. It was a struggle, but he was able to hold his composure long enough to clear his throat. 

“Ahem. Yes. Well. You look stunning in just about everything you wear, but this look is…” He took a deep breath. “Particularly flattering.”

“I’m glad you think so,” said Aoife knowingly—her tone suggesting she had not actually been looking for a compliment, but instead was taking great pleasure in watching him squirm. Had she always had such a mischievous streak? Or was she merely trying to set the mood for their evening…?

“Erm,” the Exarch went on. “Aoife… I do hope I’m not misreading your intent, but if you had wanted to…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. _To take me to bed._ “I mean, if you were looking to spend some, er, _intimate_ time together, you might have simply said as much in your missive…”

Aoife couldn’t help laughing.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she replied. “I can’t give my lover a nice surprise once in a while?”

_Lover…!!_

It was the first time she’d described him in so many words, and it made his heart jump to hear it. Not merely “friend” or even a generous “partner,” but _lover_ … 

“I suppose that’s true…” the Exarch mumbled bashfully, fidgeting with his robes. “Caught me off guard, is all…”

“All according to plan,” Aoife quipped back. “Come on—why don’t we have a seat?” 

She straightened up and made her way over to the bench near the door—aside from the bed, it was the only seating in the room that would fit two. The Exarch took one last sip from his glass before following her eagerly, doing his best to keep his eyes off the movement of her hips. Once he was seated next to her, Aoife leaned forward a little so that her eyes were more level with his.

There was a charged silence between them for a few minutes, both seemingly waiting for the other to make the next move. To his embarrassment, the Exarch could think of little other to do than stare at her—at once both completely in awe of her beauty, and in near-total disbelief that she now met his gaze in the same loving way he’d always looked at her. Her eyes traversed his features, taking in every detail: the crystals on his face, the fading in his hair; perhaps even his Miqo’te markings that had never quite had a chance to mature in old age… 

He reached out almost without thinking, taking her hands in his. He wished she hadn’t chosen to wear gloves tonight, because more than anything he wanted to feel the warmth of her skin after so many years spent pining for it. _What little warmth I can still feel with one hand, anyway…_

He finally had what he’d longed for all these years, and he hardly knew what to do with himself. 

Aoife gave his hands a little squeeze.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked quietly.

“Hm?” The Exarch’s ears twitched.

“You were so quiet, I thought you might be deep in thought about something…”

“Oh,” the Exarch responded. “It’s nothing, really, just…” He took another deep breath, wondering if he really ought to speak his mind—whether he could divulge such personal thoughts—but he supposed that Aoife of all people should be someone he could confide in about such things. He gave her hands a squeeze in return. “I just… I spent so much time planning to save your life, I never imagined that I might be lucky enough to share in it one day…”

Aoife tilted her head, indicating that she was waiting for him to elaborate. He almost couldn’t look at her.

“I was so focused on sacrificing myself that you might live,” he went on, “I never stopped to consider the possibility that you might prefer to have me not as a martyr but a _partner_. That you would share even a fraction of what I feel for you…” The Exarch’s ears drooped, his tail flicked nervously behind him. “It’s somewhat embarrassing, really—I spent a lifetime preparing for every possible outcome, and it never even occurred to me that you might _love me back.”_

He smiled in spite of himself and furtively glanced away.

“So… I’m not quite sure what to do…”

Aoife leaned toward him, gently touching her forehead to his. 

“May I make a suggestion, then?”

“Hm?”

“Of what to do, I mean.”

“Sure…?”

He expected her to say something more, but it never came—Aoife instead tilted her head and closed what little gap remained between them. 

_Soft…!_

He'd often imagined what it might feel like to kiss her—guiltily, of course, because he’d always felt the privilege of a kiss with the Warrior of Light would be well beyond his reach. It was one of a long list of fantasies he'd spent idle hours considering as the decades wore on, something to keep himself motivated each time his research hit a dead end. Yet even when his desires threatened to consume him, he wouldn’t allow himself to entertain any hope of seeing them realized. By his calculations, there was no version of the future in which they could be together—the stakes were too high, and the risks far too great. All his useless pining would only make it harder to carry out his final act when the time came. To be with her was a dream, nothing more; a dream from his youth that had long since faded. 

To finally kiss her for real, though, was far better than any dream. 

No amount of fantasizing had prepared him for the reality of it; for the reassuring warmth of her skin on his, how soft her lips felt against his own. It was intoxicating, electrifying—it dawned on him that all this time he'd been as a man parched in the desert, and her touch was the oasis he hadn't known how to find. He wanted to lose himself in it. To drown in this moment, in the knowledge that he was hers at last… 

She lingered there for a time that felt both eon and instant before pulling back to give him space to breathe.

“Aoife…” he couldn't help murmuring her name.

“Hm?” 

“Don't stop… Please…” 

Aoife was only too glad to oblige him. She leaned in again, this time taking his head in her hands and gently guiding his lips to hers. The Exarch shivered at her touch, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wanted more. He reached up to put his hands on hers, willing her not to let go until he’d had his fill.

She released his lips sooner than he would have liked, and he took a wanting breath. For a moment she simply held him, gazing into his eyes and considering her next move. He willed her to keep going—he’d waited three hundred years for this moment, and now that they’d begun in earnest he was loath to waste another second.

“G’raha…” she said quietly, brushing a thumb over the crystals on his cheek. His ears jerked to attention at the sound of his name.

“Aoife…?” the Exarch offered, for want of a more intelligent response. Aoife’s hands traveled languidly downward, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“G’raha,” she purred, pulling him into her embrace—it was all he could do not to lose his face in her bosom. “G’raha…” 

“Ah…!” The Exarch squeaked. She was doing this on purpose, surely. “Aoife… You can…”

“Hm?”

“Just… Raha is fine, if you’d like…”

She paused, gazing at him pensively, before testing the name on her lips:

“Raha…” 

A chill ran down his spine. No one had called him by that name in centuries, to the point where he'd almost forgotten what his given name sounded like without the clan letter altering its sound. To hear her speak it was strange and unfamiliar, and yet… It made his heart flutter. Knowing that she alone could call him by that name… 

“Raha…” Aoife repeated, nuzzling against the top of his head. 

“Oh…!” the word escaped his throat before he could intervene. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I know it's not a small thing, to let someone outside your family use this name…” 

“Aoife, there's no one I would rather have calling me by name,” the Exarch interjected, looking up at her as best he could. “To hear it from your lips, after all this time…”

He moved to put his arms around her waist, tentatively—unsure how such a gesture would be received. From the way she squeezed his shoulders in response, he surmised it was not unwelcome. He turned his head to rest his cheek comfortably upon her chest and let out a contented sigh.

_She’s so warm… this must be what heaven feels like…_

“How long have you been wanting this?” Aoife asked, voice low.

“Need you even ask?” the Exarch replied, a bashful smile on his lips. “Since the day the doors of Syrcus Tower first shut behind me. Perhaps even earlier than that…” He was somewhat embarrassed to admit just how long he'd been infatuated with her—but she didn't admonish him, so he found the courage to add, "I would ask the same of you. How long…?" 

“Ah… my answer is the same, actually,” Aoife answered. “Though, I’ll admit you were out of mind for a little while. The years passed, my interests wandered, and I had, ah, other paramours to keep me occupied…”

“I see…”

“Oh, but—my feelings for _you_ never changed,” Aoife added hastily. “I had just, you know… accepted that you were beyond reach and moved on. But…” She smiled to herself. “When your hood flew off at Mt. Gulg, and I saw that it was you—that it had been you the whole time—in that moment it all came flooding back.”

The Exarch nodded quietly. 

“It was honestly very romantic, despite everything going on,” Aoife went on. “When you called me your _inspiration_ , I might well have asked you to marry me on the spot—that is, if I hadn’t been turning into a sin eater at the time.”

“A-ah, well…” The Exarch sat up a little, and Aoife took this as her cue to release him. He looked away in embarrassment, fidgeting with his braid. “It was a spur of the moment thing… I didn’t think I would live to see your reaction.”

“And full glad am I that you did,” Aoife jabbed. “I wouldn't have forgiven you if you’d left me with naught but that, after all this time.”

The Exarch couldn’t help laughing at this, but he found himself agreeing. It was odd to think that he was _glad_ his careful plans had gone awry in the end, but if he’d succeeded in making his escape into the rift, he wouldn’t be sitting here with her now. He’d be off alone somewhere in a dark expanse, slowly choking for lack of aether and focusing what remained of his mind on his memories of her, on what little comfort they could provide. That was the pathetic end he’d laid out for himself. He had even tried to play the villain, framing it as though he’d been tricking her this entire time and merely using her for his own personal gain. It pained him to think back on how he’d planned for her to hate him in the end, but at the time he’d reasoned that it would have been a better parting gift than the curse of longing for someone no longer living. She’d already seen a dear one die once; to inflict that same pain on her a second time would have been… 

_Ah, there I go getting lost in thought again…_

Sensing his gloomy mood, Aoife bent to lay a reassuring kiss just above his forehead. He leaned into her, taking a deep breath—reminding himself that things _hadn’t_ gone the way he’d planned, and it was precisely _because_ of that twist of fate that he could be here in her arms… 

He looked back at her, meeting her gaze, and reached up to gently brush her cheek. She took this as a signal to lean in, and he was grateful that she understood what he wanted—the gesture made it much easier for him to bring his lips to hers. A soft hum escaped her throat, and she gratefully leaned into his kiss. With such clear confirmation that she wanted this (wanted _him,_ above all else), he suddenly felt bold enough to reach for the back of her head and curl his fingers into her hair. Aoife’s hands traveled down to his waist, snaking into the folds of his robes and pulling him ever closer. They traded needy kisses this way, back and forth, each perhaps a bit sloppier than the last, until Aoife’s tongue finally found its way into his mouth and the Exarch lost track of everything else. He practically sank into her embrace, unable to think of aught other than how perfect her tongue felt against his—!

“Oh….!” he said, breathlessly, when Aoife finally saw fit to release him. “By the twelve, that was…”

“Good?”

“Gods, it was _incredible.”_

“I’m glad…” Aoife shifted her weight a little bit, as though embarrassed about something—though the Exarch couldn’t fathom what she _possibly_ had to be embarrassed about, considering she was the one who’d invited him to her chambers for a tumble in the first place. He was about to point this out to her when she added, “I just keep thinking about how lucky I am, to be with you. And it makes me want to kiss you all the more…” 

The Exarch’s heart jumped—to think that _she_ could be counting her blessings, when he’d been thinking the same thing all evening…

“Lucky…?” he echoed, still trying to process what she’d said.

“Well…” Aoife smiled bashfully. “All this time I thought I’d have a much longer wait. That if I really did live to see 300 summers, and if Eorzea caught up to Allag in that time, I might get to see you again…” She laughed a little, thinking about it. “I’d be a wrinkly old woman by then, of course.” 

“Not necessarily the case, you know,” said the Exarch. “Viis retain their youth and beauty well into their twilight years, and I’ve no doubt Viera age in a similar fashion. You could be well over three hundred and not look any older than the day I met you all those years ago.” He smiled. “Not unlike our current situation, I’ll admit…”

He glanced at his crystalline right hand and lightly closed his fist.

“I may not be the spry young man I used to be, but if you would have me, then…”

Aoife giggled a little.

“I _would_ have you, Raha, spry or no.” She bent down to thread an arm beneath his legs, and the Exarch squeaked as she easily lifted him off the bench and stood up. She flashed him a coy smile. “And for tonight, you can leave all the heavy lifting to me.”

_Twelve take me._

That she was physically strong was a given—she was a peerless master of the lance, after all—but he still hadn’t expected her to lift him with such ease. He got the sense that she could simply do whatever she wanted with him, and there was next to naught he would be able to do about it. The thought thrilled him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

“If you’re alright with it, that is,” Aoife added, pulling him from his thoughts. Evidently he’d been stunned into a longer silence than he realized.

“I—yes,” the Exarch responded, brilliantly. “Yes, I… I think I would like that very much.”

Aoife’s smile widened into a playful grin, and she wasted no further time teasing him—she crossed the room in a few eager strides and came to a stop next to her bed, upon which she deposited him unceremoniously.

“Waugh—!”

Aoife took a moment to undo her sandals before joining him on the bed, leaving her shoes in a pile. The Exarch moved to remove his own sandals, but Aoife got to them more quickly: she spent some time gently unlacing them, and slipped each one off his feet as though they were made of glass. She placed them next to hers on the floor and, satisfied, turned her attention back to him. 

“I hope you aren’t planning to stop at just my shoes,” he said playfully, trying to keep his voice even—though the constant flicking of his tail beneath his robes betrayed his excitement somewhat. 

“A little impatient, are we?” Aoife shot back.

“Well, three hundred years is a long time…”

Aoife laughed, then bent down to reward him with a brief kiss. 

“Then I’ll not keep you waiting any longer.”

She leaned in again, and the Exarch reached up to wrap his arms around her neck and pull her closer. Her lips met his a bit more forcefully this time, hungrily; she steadied herself on the bed with one hand while the other set to work loosening the ties of his robes. All the while the Exarch struggled to believe the situation in which he now found himself: that this was real, and the woman he loved was now poised to bring even his most selfish fantasies to life….!

He couldn't help smiling to himself, even as her kisses migrated to the edge of the crystals on his neck and it became harder to keep his voice in check. 

It had been a long, long journey to reach this moment… but oh, was she ever worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> just for uhhhh reference, the glam aoife's wearing in this is [this one](https://ffxiv.eorzeacollection.com/glamour/52794/dressed-to-impress)
> 
> i decided to write this from g'raha's pov when i usually write from aoife's bc i thought the surprise at the beginning would hit better if it was from his pov. and also im kind of extremely gay for my wol so i uhhhhhh had some fun writing about her instead of as her for once,,
> 
> I decided not to use G'raha's name in narration very much, because he mentioned at some point that after all this time he's so used to being called "the Exarch" that he barely considers himself G'raha anymore. and also because i wanted to make it clear to my stupid brain which iteration i was referring to so i didnt accidentally mention neck tattoos or hair clips.
> 
> also i hc that aoife has [big weird OG viera feet](https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/4/41/Viera_race.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/430?cb=20100506192346) bc i understand the technical limitations meant we couldnt have them in the game but also yoshi p is a coward


End file.
